


By My Side

by raendown



Category: Naruto
Genre: Brotherly Love, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 13:27:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12936243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raendown/pseuds/raendown
Summary: Hashirama was quite used to having his own words come back to bite him but there were some things he had said that he would never regret.





	By My Side

Over the course of his life Hashirama had become very familiar with the slightly uncomfortable feeling of having his own words come back to bite him in the ass. Usually that feeling entailed a cringe, often a hefty dose of sheepish embarrassment, and at worse he would have a small fire of his own making to put out when all was said and done. He wasn’t used the this stomach-gnawing guilt or the way it felt as though the world might crumble if he so much as dared to breathe too loudly.

Almost as though to punish himself, he found that he couldn’t put the book in his lap down. Even as his fingers restlessly traced the spine Hashirama couldn’t bear to look at it and yet still he couldn’t make himself set it aside.

“ _You can finish it later_ ,” he had said, plucking this very book from his brother’s hand and dragging him up off the couch. “ _You’re my right hand man; I need you by my side.”_

He would have fared just as well with Madara or Touka at his side. Hell, even Izuna could have filled that spot and surely their actions would have been different, surely he would not be sitting beside a hospital bed listening desperately for every beep of the heart monitor attached to his only surviving brother.

Well, only current surviving brother. Considering the wounds he had sustained it was a miracle that Hashirama had any brothers left at all today. 

Like it had been doing off and on for the past several days, fear gripped his chest anew and churned his stomach as he looked upon the unmoving face of the man in the bed. Already naturally a very pale man, Tobirama’s skin was almost translucent with blood loss. Nearly a week ago he had stood on the very doorstep of the shinigami’s dimension and only the skill of practically every medical shinobi in the village had kept him from stepping through that door. He had yet to stir even the slightest bit since. 

Feeling the tears gather for perhaps the hundredth time, Hashirama didn’t bother to fight them back. It didn’t surprise him in the least that he still had tears to cry. Should his brother pass on and never wake, he was morbidly certain that the tears would never stop and he would spend the rest of his suddenly empty life with nothing but a wet face and an echoing chest. 

Why? Why had he insisted that Tobirama come with him? His brother had begged to be left alone. All he had wanted was a chance to relax and read his book and instead Hashirama had led him to teeter upon the edge of his own grave, one foot raised and swaying wildly in and out. This was all his fault.

Clutching the book tighter, he bowed his head. For all that he was venerated as a kind and gentle man, Hashirama felt in that moment that he was truly the worst brother in the world. Surely there was no monster worse than him who would allow his own younger sibling to leap in front of him and take the blow that should have been his. Truly there could be no man lower than he who had orchestrated the symphony of the cold and merciless heart monitor, the only thing his sanity clung to through the endless days and nights. 

“Oh good, you’re here,” a familiar voice mumbled in a tired slur. Hashirama’s head snapped up and he bolted upright in his seat, clinging to the book he held like a lifeline. 

“T-Tobirama?” he whispered. Red eyes blinked sleepily back at him, barely cracked open, and the corners of his brother’s mouth turned up in a drug-laced, slightly loopy smile. 

“Makes it easier to give you my report.”

“ _Tobirama_!”

Unable to contain himself, Hashirama threw himself down across his brother’s lap, sobbing harshly and clinging to the younger man’s legs where he wouldn’t disturb any of his injuries. A concerned voice asked him what was wrong but he couldn’t answer in that moment. Tobirama was alive. He was awake. He would  _survive_. 

Hashirama hadn’t killed him. 

Once the first wave of his storm had passed he was able to sit up and drag his chair closer to the head of the bed, taking Tobirama’s face between his hands and whispering apologies to him over and over. Tears fell from his cheeks down on to the other man’s until shaking white fingers came up to brush them away.

“Hey now,” Tobirama said haltingly. “Everything’s okay. I’m fine, Anija. Promise.” 

“I’ll never do it again I swear! I’m so sorry! You almost died because of me!” Hashirama sniffed wetly and hiccupped twice. “You can read all the books you want and I swear this will never happen again! Never!” 

Tobirama smiled at him gently and, were he not so full of painkillers that he could barely feel his own body, it was clear that he would have been shaking his head in exasperation. “It might happen again.”

“Never!”

“It  _might_. Do you know why?” Hashirama shook his head, bewildered, and Tobirama’s smile softened impossibly. “Because there is nowhere I would rather stand than by your side, Anija. I would rather take a hundred blows myself than watch a single one pierce your skin.” 

Hashirama found himself quite unable to reply at the moment. Yet another wail crawled its way up out of his throat and when he curled himself down Tobirama raised both arms to hold him in a tellingly weak grip. They both knew that he would continue to apologize until the younger man was more than sick of hearing it. And they both knew that he would be more protective than ever from now on after this experience. 

But they both also knew how much they loved each other and how willing they were to burn the world for the sake of their only brother. Friends and lovers could come and go but family would always be the most important thing in both of their lives. 

Pressed between their chests there lay a book with a well-stroked spine and a cover well-watered with tears. Hashirama’s hands had let it go at last, though he hadn’t even noticed. With the weight of it released from his hands he felt as though the weight in his chest had lifted as well. Tobirama was alive and there were a few words Hashirama remembered speaking to him that he would never regret saying. 

“ _I need you by my side.”_

 


End file.
